Page 7 of Pledge Of A Bobcat

“So, you’re the one,” she said, her voice low and soft with an almost ethereal elegance to it. “I’ve been expecting you.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her words. “You have?”

Her lips twitched into a delicate smile, and her eyes seemed to brighten. “Of course. The wind’s been whispering extra loud lately. It told me someone would be coming with a heavy burden in need of dire help.”

Rachel made a noise, drawing my attention to her. Something flitted across her face, but it was gone before I could name it.

She nodded to the grocery bags in my hand. “Bring those in the kitchen, please.”

She started walking, and I followed.

Maribel’s eyes were on me as I walked. I could feel them, but I didn’t shift my gaze to meet hers.

“Tell me about you,” the old woman said in her soft, whimsical voice. “Tell me why you’ve sought me out. What’s the heavy burden the wind has been whispering about?”

I set the grocery bags on the counter beside the one Rachel carried in and turned to face the old woman. I swallowed hard, remembering how much was riding on this.

The Misfit Shifters depended on me.

“Well, my name is Ellis,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’m grateful you’ll see me tonight. I’m part of the Misfit Shifters, and I’ve come to ask for your help with a situation we have with another shifter in the community. This shifter,” I said, pausing to look at the little girl on the couch still eating apple chips. I didn’t want my next words to scare her. Then again, maybe shewouldn’t know what I was talking about. “We believe he’s been possessed and we’d like your help—we’d like you to exorcize him.”

Maribel stared at me, her expression unreadable.

“He’s dangerous,” I continued. “To all shifters in town. The spirit inside him has the ability to manipulate and control the minds of shifters. We need your help to stop him—for good this time.”

My bobcat paced under the intensity of her stare, causing even more unease to power through me.

“This spirit you speak of was among the living recently, was it not?” Maribel asked, her eyes narrowing.

I nodded, watching as she tipped her head to the side as though listening to something I couldn’t hear. “Yes. His name was Lucius.”

“I felt a shift in the winds when he came through town before. He had a dark presence to him,” she said. “One that’s now woven through the shifter you’re here about.”

Goose bumps prickled across my skin. This woman was eerily in tune with things.

I watched her cross the small living room to a table near the front window without a word. Once she settled into a chair, she lit a candle, picked up a drawstring bag, and took out the cards inside.

Tarot cards.

I glanced at Rachel, wondering what the old woman was doing. She gave me a look that suggested this was nothing new and made her way to where her daughter sat on the couch. My gaze drifted back to Maribel, watching as she shuffled the cards with the ease of someone who’d done so a thousand times before. She split the deck into three stacks, then combined them back into one before drawing three cards and laying them out in front of her.

The images on the cards meant nothing to me, but she nodded while staring at them as if she’d gathered a deep meaning and confirmation from them. I waited for her to explain what they’d told her, but she didn’t. Instead, she scooped them up and went through the same process again, only this time, she only laid out two cards. She stared at them, soaking in their meaning and wisdom, before pulling a third card. Tension built inside me while I waited for her to speak, to say something—anything.

These cards didn’t look bad. They looked happy. Romantic even.

Her gaze shifted to lock with mine for a brief moment before she scooped the cards up and tucked them away again inside their bag.

“Darkness is hard to shake once it takes root,” Maribel finally said. “What you’re asking for is no simple task. This won’t be easy, nor will it be quick. And if the spirit is truly as dark as I believe, the one he’s using as a vessel might not survive.”

Her gaze locked onto mine, and I could feel the weight of her words.

“I understand,” I assured her.

“Do you? Do you understand the potential cost of what you’re asking?”

The chance that Xander might not survive.

I nodded. “I do,” I said, meaning it. If we didn’t go through with this, then Xander was as good as dead anyway because Lucius couldn’t be allowed to follow through with whatever evil he was here to continue. “I don’t have a choice. This has to end.”

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